Tears of a Brother
by Little-miss-laughs-alot
Summary: What's wrong with Dwight? Why won't he respond? Ever since Dwight woke up, he's been... Numb. His friends are getting worried, but will they find out what's wrong? Post-Hell Night. CP Coulter's Daltonverse


**I am on a ****_roll!_**** This is like, my 4th oneshot this week! Lol, I guess exam week makes my brain turn into plot bunny central! Also, this is my second oneshot about Dwight... He's one of my favorites! **

**Hope you like it!**

**DISCLAIMER- I don't own Glee or Dalton!**

Dwight hadn't cried. He didn't cry when he woke up from his drug-induced slumber and was told that Mr. Harvey was dead. He knew that already. He didn't cry when he learned that some of the students- his friends- had yet to wake up. He was confident they would. He didn't cry when he learned that Dalton may close. He was numb. As the days passed, he barely spoke, causing his mother to remember the months after Alan died, when her eldest son hadn't spoken a word. He spoke to the doctors, to tell them how he felt, where he was hurting. He talked to his mom, to soothe her worrying with a few words. He talked to his friends, when they stopped by or he visited them. He talked; just not enough to assuage their worries.

The fact was that, although he told the doctors how his injuries were doing, and comforted his mother, and talked to his friends, he did all of this as if he was talking in his sleep. Nobody knew what caused this; the doctors were befuddled. His mother didn't know; he didn't want to cause her any more sadness. His friends had no idea; they didn't understand. He went through his days in a haze; not unlike Logan on his medication. Sure he carried his salt and holy water around, and kept wearing his amulets, but he was quite unlike the Dwight Houston they all knew. Nobody knew what caused it. Nobody but Dwight.

The Windsors were congregated in Dwight's hospital room, now that they were all allowed out of bed. Dwight's room was right in the middle of all of theirs, so it made a good meeting place. The twins were sitting on the bed next to Dwight, leaning their heads on each other- they had not lost physical contact with the other since they woke up. Kurt and Blaine were sitting against the wall on the floor, next to Reed and Shane. Wes and David sat on chairs, right next to Charlie, and surprisingly, Han, who was for once not in front of a screen. He did, however, have a tablet and a laptop in the bag at his feet, and a phone in his pocket. Han had taken to visiting them every few days in the hospital. They were all in their own quiet conversations, but all of them kept glancing worriedly at Dwight. Dwight was sitting up in his bed against pillows, and was staring at nothing, not contributing to any conversations. The doctors told them not to ask him why, but simply treat him as they normally would, and hopefully he would come around soon.

Of course, treating Dwight as they normally would, would be unwise in their current states, as their normal routines involved running, tackling, and various weaponry. They decided to leave that for when they were better. Nevertheless, Dwight was worrying them all. He hardly responded when he was spoken to, and showed little to no emotion when he did respond.

They continued on with their conversations, still shooting surreptitious looks at their friend. After a few more minutes, Dwight's mother entered the room, nodding hello at the boys who greeted her and headed to her son. She had taken to coming in every once in a while to check on him and try to get him to talk, leaving after about ten minutes of him not telling, only to come back later. He did speak, but never spoke of what was bothering him. Ms. Houston sat on the edge of the bed and took Dwight's hands in hers, causing him to look at her, face blank.

"Dwight, please tell me what's wrong!" she pleaded with him, "I don't want you to go silent again, please, just tell me!" The Windsors exchanged confused looks- what did she mean by "again"?

Dwight looked at a point over her shoulder, not making eye contact, face totally blank. "Nothing's wrong." His voice was not his own. It was empty.

Ms. Houston sighed, looking at her son pleadingly. "What's wrong? Why are you going quiet again, Tommy?" For the first time in days, Dwight showed emotion. His head snapped to lock eyes with his mother. "What did you call me?" His voice was filled with shock and sadness, and a bit of anger.

Ms. Houston's eyes filled with tears, but a smile crept its way onto her face, along with those of the Windsors. For a moment, Dwight sounded like himself. "Why did you call me that?" he demanded, voice breaking slightly and tears pooling in his eyes. "Don't call me that!" The Windsors all stared at their friend, bemused. Why was he making such a big deal out of a nickname?

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dwight," Ms. Houston seemed to understand, and she pulled the boy into her arms for a hug. "I'm sorry." Dwight seemed to shake, and he wrapped his arms around her too.

"Dwight, honey? Can you please tell me what was wrong?" she asked after he pulled away, both of them sniffing. He bit his lip, eyes red, before looking up.

"I was about to die, and… and he came to see me. Mom, I heard him again!" Tears were flowing down his cheeks, and his mother stared in disbelief.

"Dwight…" she gasped, eyes shining. Dwight sobbed. "He came, Mom, he came to protect me, and I couldn't protect him like I promised! I told him that I would keep him safe, but I didn't! I failed him, but he came back to help me!" He collapsed, sobbing into his mother's arms, who was also crying. The Windsors were more confused than ever, but their worry for their friend eclipsed it. Only five in the group seemed to understand what the mother and son were talking about. Kurt had tears in his eyes, and Blaine hugged him close, Han watched, a sad expression on his face, and the Twins were hugging each other tighter than ever, not wanting to imagine the pain of losing a brother.

"Why couldn't I have been taken instead of him?" Dwight asked helplessly. "Why did it have to be Alan? He was so little! I should have done more to protect him!" Ms. Houston held him close and rubbed his back soothingly.

"Don't talk like that, Dwight. What happened wasn't your fault. You did everything you could do for him." Dwight shook his head.

"I should have searched harder. I didn't search fast enough to find him in time. If I had looked harder, he would still be here!" Even through her own tears, Ms. Houston's vice took on a commanding tone. "Dwight Houston, you listen to me!" She pulled away and looked into his eyes, a finger under his chin. "What happened was not your fault! You did everything you could for Alan. It was not your fault, it was that horrible man's fault for taking him. You were the best big brother you could've been, and you made Alan's seven years the happiest they could have been. Alan would not want you blaming yourself. He forgave you, why else would he have come back to help you?" By the end of her little speech, Dwight looked defeated.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I just feel like I could have done more."

"Oh, honey, I know. I always think I could have done more too, but what's done is done. I miss him too, but there's nothing we can do about it. He's in a better place now." Dwight sniffed and nodded, accepting another, shorter hug. His mom wiped away his tears and smiled sadly at him. "I'm glad you're better."

Dwight smiled sadly. "Me too."

Ms. Houston left after a few more minutes, knowing that leaving her son with his friends would be the best course of action to take. As soon as she was out the door, Dwight found himself engulfed in a gigantic group hug, his friends comforting him with their presence and asking no questions. Soon enough, they had him laughing, because someone had inadvertently poked Evan in the side, where both boys are ticklish, making the Tweedle emit a high pitched squeaking noise, which caused a round of laughter.

From the doorway, a dark haired boy of about seven stood, smiling at the boys in the room. If anyone else happened to look his way, they saw nothing but air, but Dwight looked up. For a brief moment, Alan allowed his brother to see him. Dwight's eyes widened, but Alan just smiled. "Forgive yourself," he said, knowing only his brother would hear him. "I don't blame you. You were the best big brother I could ever have. I love you."

Dwight blinked, and Alan disappeared, but for the first time in years, Dwight was at peace. His brother didn't blame him. He could forgive himself.

As he turned back to his friends, a faint voice could be heard. "Goodbye, Tommy."

**A/N- Soo, how'd you like it? Let me know in a review!**

**-Little-miss**


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